


Claimed

by orphan_account



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-20
Updated: 2011-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 04:10:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire and Sayid: Zombie Love</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claimed

Claire’s friend---it amused her how everyone continued to call him Locke, even though they all knew he wasn’t---was in the process of putting on his pack when he came over to talk to her. “Claire, I need you to help Sayid while I run a few errands.”

“Help him? Help him how?”

“He’s feeling a little low. Go talk to him. Perk him up. He’s going to need to get into higher spirits for what’s coming in the next few days. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Claire looked over to where Sayid was sitting alone on a log, prodding the campfire with a stick. He seemed perfectly fine. But Claire’s friend usually knew what he was talking about, so she replied, “Sure thing.”

He smiled at her, that jovial, paternal smile that was so much like Locke’s, even though he wasn’t. “I knew I could count on you.”

Claire watched him disappear into the jungle and then turned her attention to Sayid, who was still sitting, now staring at nothing. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, but she picked herself up and went to join him on the log.

“Hey, there.”

“Hello.” He didn’t even turn to look at her.

Claire pursed her lips. This was going to be more difficult than she’d thought. Then she had an idea, a wild one, but it was better than nothing. They’d never been that close during their days together with the other Oceanic survivors, but of all of the people who’d come back, Sayid was the one she felt the most affinity for these days. There was something about him that she didn’t understand, but which she felt was most like herself. Her friend’s appeal had her worried. The thing was, if there was something wrong with Sayid, it might mean that something was wrong with Claire. She didn’t want to think about the implications of that, so she kept on task. Claire knew she could feel things. Lots of things. She’d spent years wanting to kill the Others. Now she wanted to kill Kate just as fervently.

Claire decided that Sayid just needed something to want.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you. In private.”

“Of course.” He sounded so bored, but Claire was not discouraged. They walked silently away from the camp. Jin and Sawyer glanced up at them with a curious gaze, but said nothing.

As soon as they’d walked a few minutes away from the camp, Claire stopped and backed Sayid up against a tree.

“What did you want to talk about?” Instead of answering, Claire got up on her tip-toes and kissed him. He tasted like boar meat and mango---what they’d had for lunch a few hours before. When he opened his mouth to breathe or speak---Claire didn’t care which---she took the opportunity to slide her tongue into his mouth. She actually found herself enjoying it, but he barely responded. A few seconds went by before he pushed her away.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you _think_ I’m doing?” Claire was annoyed. She was trying to follow orders, do what she’d been told. Why was Sayid making this so difficult?

He wrinkled his nose at her. “You need a bath, Claire. I’m sorry.”

The old Claire would have run away and cried at such a callous rebuff. But old Claire had been a pathetic weakling. Today, she simply looked down at herself and saw that she was, indeed, filthy. There was a layer of brown mud on her skin that, now that she was thinking about it, no one else in the camp had. She could feel dried sweat and dust caked in the creases of her joints. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed before.

“There’s a lagoon nearby,” she said. “Come with me. _He_ would want you to make sure I’m safe.”

Sayid nodded, still diffident, but at least not actively opposed. It was a few more minutes walk to the lagoon. It was a beautiful place, not that she’d cared about such things in a long time: a tiny stream leading into a circular pool of clear water that flowed out of another, bigger, stream on the other side, all shaded by giant trees. As soon as they reached the water’s edge, Claire began removing her clothes. Sayid simply stood there, dispassionately watching her. When she was completely naked, she tugged at his tank top.

“Swim with me.”

“Fine,” he sighed, and bent down to untie his boots.

“I heard you telling him yesterday that you don’t feel anything anymore. Is that true?” Claire asked as waded into the water.

Behind her, she heard him answer, “Yes.” Sayid followed her in as soon as he’d finished stripping, and together they walked until she was in up to her shoulders, and Sayid, taller, was facing her, with water lapping mid-torso.

She took his hand in hers and brought it to her left breast. Lacing their fingers together, she moved his thumb over the nipple. “You can feel _me_. Wash me?”

He nodded, and, still kneading the flesh she’d led him to, he gripped her other shoulder with his other hand. He began rubbing small circles on her skin with his fingers and the heel of his palm, dislodging and dissolving the mud that had lain there for so long. His hand moved upwards, washing her neck in a strangely soothing rhythm that was practically a massage, and then up even more to gently caress the dirt off her face with his wet hands. He was meticulous---always had been.

It wasn’t sexy, but was a start.

“I’ll wash you, too,” she said, even though he had seemed relatively clean---well, clean for the island, at least---back at camp. Her fingers traced the line of hair that ran down the middle of his chest. She’d never realized how strong his body was before. She liked it.

Memories of another life flitted through her mind for the first time in years. Memories of having watched him with Shannon---as unlikely a person to be with him as she herself was. Claire had felt things then: curiosity, interest, and, she now realized, a twinge of jealousy. But it hadn’t been an issue back then. She’d been pregnant, worried, involved with Charlie… Sayid had been not so much off-limits as just off-topic.

But Shannon was dead, like so many others. Claire was right here. He’d see that, he’d want her, and he’d get better.

She closed the distance between them. Reacting, he let go of her shoulder and moved his hand down her back, drawing her in. Claire jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist, her arms ducking under his own so she could hold on to his ass while he held her up by her back. She could feel his flaccid cock floating between her legs. It was soft and fragile, so unlike the rest of him.

Claire looked up into Sayid’s face. This time, he moved his head forward and kissed her. It was more of an experiment than a real kiss, but when Claire leaned into it, he intensified, and soon they were moaning into one another’s mouths. His beard tickled her freshly cleaned face.

She didn’t know what she was doing until she’d already started. It just seemed like what should follow. It was only a couple of inches from where her fingers already were resting to the crease of his ass. She found the ring of muscle and pressed against it.

Sayid stopped kissing her and looked at her hard, not saying anything. Claire just smiled mischievously.

The old Claire, that soft nitwit from Sydney, would never have done this. She wouldn’t even have known what to do. But Claire had seen things since she was that person. One day, not too long after all of her airplane companions had abandoned her, she’d seen two male Others leave the temple and hike into the jungle. Hidden behind a bush, she’d watched them strip and touch and fuck. She’d watched them all through their lovemaking, and then, just when they were at their most vulnerable, she’d shot them. At the time, she'd thought it served them right for taking her baby. Even though she’d since learned the truth, she still didn’t regret it. Now it was just knowledge that she could use to help Sayid, and through that, please her friend.

It was working, too. Sayid gasped and buckled under the touch of her exploratory finger and she could feel him hardening and lengthening against her. She pressed hard at his entrance. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, please, don’t stop,” he whispered. “Claire…” She liked the way he said her name, all husky with his accent. She rewarded him by pressing her slender finger inside, feeling for a spot she knew from watching those Others was supposed to be there somewhere and make him feel good.

Sayid let out a delicious noise of surprise and pleasure. It was the first uncontrolled and natural reaction he had yet displayed, not just today, but since she had last seen him, years ago.

“You’ve never been touched here before, have you?” she asked.

Sayid shook his head no, and held her tighter. Claire knew she’d found the spot because his entire body convulsed and he bit down into her shoulder. Just as he’d never had that spot touched, she’d never been bitten before, and she found that she liked it. She was no longer the delicate flower everyone had always assumed her to be. She liked that Sayid realized this.

“See? You can still feel things.” Claire grinned. _And so can I,_ she thought.

“Yes,” he hissed, and began sucking on her lower lip. Sayid had Claire pressed so tightly against him that she could hardly breathe. She threw her other arm around his neck and sucked on his neck, rocking against him. She could feel his now-hard cock pushing insistently between their stomachs. He smelled and tasted good---sweaty, manly, primal, _wet_ \---and it triggered something in her that she had forgotten was still there. After one last press and one last whimper from Sayid, Claire slowly slid her finger out of his ass, gratified to hear the low moan that escaped him.

She took his hand and led him towards dry land. He followed like a lamb, even when she sat on a large patch of moss and pulled him down to lay on top of her. However, Claire didn’t expect him to shimmy down the length of her body, pressing little licks and kisses between her breasts and on her stomach. He was being surprisingly tender, his diffidence now gone.

“What are you doing? I thought… oh!” she exclaimed when his tongue found her clit and began weaving soft patterns around it.

He’d always been such a gentleman. Nothing had changed.

Claire let her body relax. She hadn’t known it, but she’d been tense for longer than she could remember. She let herself drown in the sensation of the circles his tongue was drawing around her clit---always circling, but never touching.

She’d forgotten what this was like, to be touched, to be wanted. But then again, _did_ he want her? That was the whole point of this, wasn’t it? Claire wasn’t sure, so she propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him. Sayid’s eyes and the bridge of his nose were visible above the golden fur the rest of his face was buried in. His gaze never left hers, not for an instant, and Claire knew that at this moment, Sayid wasn’t thinking of Shannon, or even that lady from the picture she’d found for him so long ago. He was thinking only of her, of right now, and it gave Claire a sense of power that was greater than touching him had or wielding her axe did.

As if reading her thoughts, Sayid reached out with one hand to grab her breast, pushing her back down flat while he squeezed it roughly. Calloused fingers pinched her over-sensitive nipple and Claire’s hips involuntarily jerked up in response. The he was on top of her, sucking and worrying her nipple with his teeth while he placed his hands on either side of her hips to steady her movements, nails pressing into her soft flesh. He was reasserting his own power, but she found she didn’t mind. It felt too good. Together, they were powerful and better than anyone else on this island. She felt a long finger enter her, slowly, and she shook with need.

“God, Sayid,” she breathed. She wanted to remain strong, but Claire couldn’t help herself; she began arching and bucking as the pleasure increased. She lay her hands over his, holding them as the heat grew in her belly. When he went back down and continued his tortuous lapping, it got to be too much. Now he was no longer circling. His was timing his licks directly on her clit with his finger entering her, sometimes one, sometimes two at a time, stretching her and pressing her on the inside.

“Come for me, Claire,” he ordered, and to her surprise, she did, writhing and rubbing against the mossy ground and getting herself just as filthy as she had been before any of this had started. He held her down and continued to tease her through her orgasm. As soon as she’d caught her breath, she sat up, flipped him over, and lowered herself onto his still-hard cock. Sayid continued to gaze serenely at her, his breath hitching the harder she rode him.

“Tell me I’m beautiful,” she ordered. She didn’t know why it was suddenly so important to her to hear it, but it was.

“You’ve always been beautiful, Claire,” he said, so sincerely that she knew he was telling the truth.

Without breaking the rhythm, Claire leaned down kissed him, and this time, she was surprised to realize how real this one was, for both of them. Something had awoken in her, something she hadn’t expected from this. She could tell he was feeling the same thing. Something that for a fleeting second was verging on normal. It scared her, because she hadn’t felt _not_ normal before.

He was fucking her in earnest, matching her movements with his own thrusts, and rubbing her clit at the same time. She could feel a second orgasm building inside her. She came again, with Sayid’s name on her lips.

“What is going on here?” Claire heard. She looked up to find _him_ staring down at them with a most un-Locke-like expression of fury on his face.

Claire froze, but Sayid was too far gone to stop. He kept thrusting, and then she felt him erupt inside her. Only when Sayid had recovered did he turn his head to look at the intruder.

But he still held her hand.

Despite the rage on her friend’s face that told Claire that this was definitely not what he’d had in mind when he had told her to 'perk Sayid up', she was pleased. Screw him. He’d lied to her. Lied to her about Aaron and the Others. She had Sayid now.


End file.
